A Decision Made

Brialla laid on her side, in bed, arms wrapped around the slowly diminishing dome of her stomach. In a pleasant, dull state of mind, processing Kerendra’s blessed gift, and the still-present, slight ache of her terribly abused throat, and mouth. And face. And nose. And cheeks. Brialla had, over time, come to view the inevitable recuperation after their couplings as precious. Moments, hours, where she was allowed to just lie back, to relax, often in Kerendra’s arms, even if things were intentionally not quite so perfect right then. On purpose.

At least, there would be no need for any meals for the rest of the night, nor the morning. She might have cared more for a consistent saving on that expense were she still in Quel’thalas, but then, even among the kaldorei, one still had to pay for and trade for goods. Food. And as much as Kerendra fed Brialla, she also ate for two when doing so. All that training, physical activity, patrolling, fighting, fucking, it took its toll. Required energy. And, though there was never any doubt in Brialla’s mind that Kerendra could have lived perfectly well on her own, she was still happy to help sustain her mate.

There had been a time, quite a long time, during which she had still thought the way she would have had she been back home. Under the metaphorical thumb of her parents, eager to prove herself, her worth, her own personhood. That had fallen away, over the years. There was no time to question one’s self to such a depth when there was a child to care for, a large and demanding and loving mate to care for and be cherished by, and a business to run. It had become clearer, too, as time went on, as letters went back and forth across the sea, that what had seemed, at first, a little outpost operation in kaldorei lands had taken on increasing importance for the merchant house’s business.

All of that made it still more important that Salka did not win. That Kerendra came home with some solution. Not because their life would collapse if she did not – they would survive, and be fine. But Brialla did not want to live as a dependent, even if Kerendra might be accepting of such an arrangement. It might taint everything, then – was she still the loving, indulging mate when they made love if she required Kerendra’s benevolence to eat, to drink, for their family to survive? Almost certainly yes. But that ‘almost certainly,’ given years to take root and foment, could be the thing which unmade them. Drove them apart over accumulating nothings. And Brialla wanted nothing to unmake them, ever.

She ran a hand over her bloated stomach, along its curve. There was no doubt that Kerendra approved of her, and she of Kerendra, right then. Her proud, strong sentinel, who lived as she pleased – with a blood elf, a merchant, someone of supposedly suspect loyalties. Had that been why Kerendra had given up being the priestess’ guardian?

The door opened, below. Closed, a moment after. The changing air currents alerted Brialla to it, a shiver of colder wind running along the curve of her belly. Kerendra was home. Quiet, still as an early, unmarked grave, it was the tactile feeling of tranquil air stirred up by its intermixing with the salt breeze of the outside that made her return obvious. Brialla’s senses recognized her mate in a way that her conscious thought could not, she but knew that it was Kerendra. Knew that someone else was in their home, nearby, someone not dangerous.

She might have wondered how the kaldorei moved as quietly as they did, given their size, but not everything in the world made sense in a physical way. The night elves were blessed by ancient nature spirits, by the dragons, and by their goddess, and so, they could be things that reason objected to. Entirely silent, for example. And so, when Kerendra trudged up the stairs, gradually coming into view to Brialla, who merely breathed in and out slowly, it was not a shock.

With that same quiet, Kerendra moved over to the bed, sitting on its edge above where Brialla lay curled up – above her head. Placed a hand on the covers, wrapped loosely around Brialla’s shoulders. Smoothed down them, still without a word. Kerendra seemed relaxed, at least, which was a sign of some kind. Inscrutable as she remained, to some extent, it certainly meant that no catastrophe had taken place. Brialla just did not know if something good had happened, or nothing at all. She knew, though, that she did not need to prompt. Only look up. Kerendra would start speaking, given time.

“We’d never really talked about Salka, until tonight,” Kerendra said, at length. She rested her hand on Brialla’s shoulder, atop the covers, rather than caressing. For a little while. “I think they’re in her pocket, to some extent. Not slavishly loyal, as such, just sympathetic. They can be swayed to her point of view.”

“But we can sway them, too, then?”

“I’m not sure they’ll allow you to pass until Salka returns. With everything ready to handle the shipment,” Kerendra said.

“But we can sway them,” Brialla said, again. The shape of a plan began to slot into place in her mind – not suddenly, but crafted from whole pieces gradually given shape by her subconsciousness, and now floating up into her awareness. Prompted by Kerendra’s return. It was as if, sensing those pieces coming together before her mind’s eye, a hidden self was trying to convince the conscious self of the plan, even if it was her plan already.

“Sure,” Kerendra said. “We can sway them. With the right incentives. As long as it’s good for them, and good for the priestess, and good for the town.”

Brialla took in a breath, and then pushed the covers aside. With some effort, one hand settled against the bed, one atop Kerendra’s to keep it in place on her shoulder, she worked herself up into a sitting position. Slumped, a little, the bump on her stomach by now small, merely the size of a bowl of soup. As if she had greedily eaten three times a normal portion size. “I have an idea.”

“One you want to tell me, or is it better worked impulsively?”

“Salka is sure of her own success,” Brialla said, leaning her head against Kerendra’s chain-and-leather, padding-covered flank. “So, we can use that to delay her. A few of our workers are here for desires quite similar to mine, and I’m sure I could convince one of them that, if she were to aim those in Salka’s direction, I might give her the time off to pursue them.”

“Naturally,” Kerendra said. She seemed entirely comfortable with the notion of this deception of a fellow kaldorei. Sending two people who both wanted the same thing in the direction of each other hardly counted as deception, anyway, did it?

“And then,” Brialla continued, after running her tongue over her lips, “we bring two more with us.”

“To the priestess?”

“Yes,” Brialla said. She breathed in, stood, lingering only for a moment as she carefully, gently disengaged herself from Kerendra’s hand, allowing her to find underwear, and a pale blue, pleated, summery dress. Chosen not because it was summer, but because it was more suitable for what was almost certainly going to happen at the meeting.

“We’re going to have another child, which we’re demonstrating to the priestess.”

“And two of your employees?”

“They aren’t there for us, or the priestess. But to entertain the sentinel guards,” Brialla said. “Who might be inclined to take Salka’s side, but based on experience, I’m relatively certain they’re more likely, in the moment, to take the side of a known, safe, loyal party if siding with that person is likely to make the kneeling, attractive sin’dorei before them more eager to swallow their dick whole.”

“Before meeting you, my love, I never would have guessed that being a merchant involved so much sex,” Kerendra said. Dryly, and yet not without a hint of mirth.

“It’s the kaldorei,” Brialla said, slipping the dress over her head, wriggling a few times to help settle it, then tugging it down until its thin straps came to a rest over her shoulders. “Insatiable. Certainly when it comes to my kind. You’re testament to that, aren’t you?”

“It would’ve worked on me, too,” Kerendra said, after a long moment’s contemplation. “Not if the priestess would be in danger as a result, of course, but—”

“But she won’t be. Which is why, way back when I’d just arrived, it worked,” Brialla said.

“So, we barge into the priestess’ office after you’ve distracted her guards with two of your employees, most skilled in fitting things down their throats, and then we make love, and this convinces the priestess of your commitment? Our spectacular skill makes sure that she gives you the contract? Abilities as a lover are directly transferable to negotiation?”

“My love, stop trying to poke holes in this plan. She isn’t as far-removed from emotion and desires as you might imagine. She hides it, but I think she’s impressed of her own guards, as much as I am. She just cares for her flock, as it were. Us. Salka, too. But she wants us to succeed, and in her mind, that means showing that we want to succeed. That we have what it takes.”

“By… fucking.”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes some sense,” Brialla said. “Will you come with me, at least?”

“If our second child ever asks how they were conceived, can we both agree to lie and say that it was a quiet, beautiful beach trip, rather than this?”

“Maybe she’ll think the story is funny.”

“She?”

“I have a feeling,” Brialla said. “You’re saying yes without actually saying yes, dear?”

“I am,” Kerendra said. She seemed, for a moment, on the edge of a sigh. And then, instead, offered a lopsided smile. “Yes.”

“This isn’t how we would do it in Quel’thalas,” Brialla said. “But this is simpler, in a way. And we’ve wanted another child. And you get to show off to the priestess, show her how big and strong and mighty and potent you are, too. You could become a guardian sentinel of hers again, if you wanted to, surely.”

“I don’t,” Kerendra said. “I want to spend time with you. Here. At home.”

“It’s much easier to tie me up if you’re actually present, too,” Brialla said. She smoothed down the front of the dress. If there remained a bump at all, it would soon be gone. Just in time to be renewed, provided everything went according to plan. “Shall we?”